Brothers Hawke
by Kioux
Summary: DA2 - Focus on the relationship between the two Hawke brothers. What if the strong one gives up and needs the other to come around? A look at the value of family and friends.  And a little tribute to Carver - I like him!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age 2 or any of the characters, neither do I earn any money writing these stories.**

**Author Note:** I have to admit that I have no idea yet, where this piece of a story might lead. I have some ideas for a longer story - thus making this a chapter.  
>It'll depend on my inspiration as well as my time and the feedback and comments. It's just no fun if nobody comments and tell me if they like the stuff or not.<br>Even if I wrote for myself in the first place - let's face it, when publishing we seek feedback and encouragement.  
>The actual storyline is a bit darker and it indicates the death of a character but it helped me a good bit to deal with some of my moods. So, I hope you don't expect any cheery fluff this time.<p>

I also have to apologize for typos and the likes since I currently don't have any beta readers. I'll read through it again and again in different times and try to fix the mistakes I find.

**Setting:** It is post-campaign, with a very good natured M!Mage Gaian Hawke, who sided with the Mages, had his Templar brother return and ensured Anders survival. While the actual playthrough contained a romance, this story will not - at least not at the beginning. However - should I decide to actually write a lot more, it will be an MM or MMM story (no incest though).  
>Oh, and rated M for my convenience .<p>

* * *

><p>"And what will you do when it happens again next time? Hawke can't be around all the time!" Fenris argued as they walked toward the small camp.<p>

"Well, then you'll finally have your chance to slay me. Isn't that what you've wanted all the time? Maybe I should provoke it..." Anders answered annoyed.

"You shouldn't have agreed to it in the first place!" Fenris threw in, throwing down the looted equipment next to the fire.

"Should he have kept that spirit in a walking corpse? Sure – that would really help to calm the public" Merrill joined the conversation. Hawke watched them, listened to their discussion and with every word he lost more and more patience and hope – not mentioning blood.

"The bloodmage siding with the abomination – what a surprise!" Carver yelled

"Oh – an observation from the one who joined the Templars due to low self esteem and not out of conviction" the petite elf responded.  
>"I thought you would have learned that not everyone is the same – unless you have decided to become another Ser Alrik or just like Meredith."<p>

"It's not the same!"Carver yelled, his head highly red now.

Hawke turned around again, leaving their gained goods at the edge of the camp and walked.

* * *

><p>He had reached his breaking point – it was enough. They were battling Templars and misled mages, bounty hunters, slavers and other hired mercenaries – and all that just to survive. And by now – it started even before they reached the camp again – the infighting. It got worse since Carver came back.<p>

Gaian had tried to get along with it, to deal with the constant bickering and arguing but how does one handle the ongoing warlike state between those one loves the most. He had tried everything he could think of – tried to appease them, to discuss, to understand, to stay silent... it was all for naught and his position didn't make it any simpler either.

They were still yelling, Aveline was trying to calm them down. The flickering of the campfire was getting dimmer.

Anders was... well, merged or possessed by a fade spirit. Merrill was bloodmage who had knowingly dealt with an ancient demon. Fenris – the former slave who blamed magic for all evil. And Carver who had defied Hawke, who had rebelled against everything his older brother had ever done or stood for... he had joined the Templar Order.

He thought he could still hear them – or maybe it was just still echoing in his mind. After all, he had heard it every night over the last two weeks.

Hawke was incredibly happy that at least Sebastian wasn't with them anymore or this would have been even worse. Strangely enough, he missed Isabela who had left the group not long ago. "Some business to take care off" she had said. Somehow Hawke doubted that she would be gone for good. He wasn't sure if that really was her reason to leave or if she just got tired of all the fighting. He would have even understood if she had just told him she wanted a break from all this.

He was sure it was silent now, the occasional bird still let out a note or two in the deepest twilight. No more light from the fire flickered through the branches and the remaining glum rays of the disappearing sun would soon follow.

Aveline and Donnic had mentioned that they would like to find a place to stay. Gaian didn't blame them – Aveline had been on the run before and Donnic didn't seem to be the traveling type. He'd be happy if those two would find a suitable place, somewhere they could find back into a normal life.

He stopped for a moment, pressing the hand against his side. The scarf he had stuffed under his robes to suppress the bleeding and to hide it from the others was heavy and soaked and the fact that he began to stumble more often over sticks and stones was a sign that he was getting weaker. He took a deep breath and regretted it right away. It hurt – burnt and what felt like fatigue until now was changing into pain. He continued to walk... maybe there was a good place for him to rest.

Having Aveline and Donnic somewhere would be nice, a place he could visit and always find them. Though, if they actually settled down, maybe even had children... should he go and find them again? The way fate had played him, he would most certainly bring chaos and troubles back into their lives. They didn't deserve that... yet, if Aveline would hear him talk like this, she'd lecture him about making decisions for others.

The sound of water – not a huge river, smaller – a peaceful gurgling. The full moon was on the rise and the light was bright enough for him to see. He changed directions until the water was closer and eventually the trees gave way for a little clearing. There was a little building and when he got closer, the silhouette of a waterwheel appeared. The house wasn't in its best shape anymore – probably abandoned for some years now and yet – no place could be more perfect.

* * *

><p>"One of them killed our mother – you almost fell for the lies of another! You lost what was dearest to you and you... I don't even know what to say." Carver threw in, the last bit directed at Anders.<p>

"Maybe so but what of all the others? What of those that defied all demons? What of all those that use their powers to help and safe? Will you throw them down just the same? Would you have supported the 'Tranquil Solution'? That you don't care for me is one thing but would you condemn your brother to that fate?" Anders wanted to know and for the first time they turned around.

"I... no" Carver finally admitted. "Brother... "

"Are you all done? Then you might realize that Hawke has left" Varric finally said. He was preparing his backpack and shouldered Bianca.  
>"Can't say I blame him. By Andraste's tits – you are unbelievable. Same blighted discussions, same blighted arguments and you don't get anywhere and in the meantime he is doing all he can to keep everyone together and you away from each other's throats. Maker – he deserves better than that. He watched out for each one of us and you... Blight take you all! I'll try to find him!" The camp was silent at once and they all stared at the dwarf and then at the spot Hawke had last been seen.<p>

"He left everything" Aveline had started to look through the things Hawke had dropped off. She picked up different items and eventually turned a few around, looking at them closely. "We should find him quickly" she added with a worried look.

"What's the matter, love?" Her husband Donnic had stepped closer and he took the two shirts and a blanket she gave him. "That's quite a bit of blood."

"It's probably from the mercenaries" Fenris said but Aveline and Donnic shook their heads.

"We fought them outside their camp and none of us would have taken stained equipment – you know that!" Anders responded and was quickly looked for his staff.

Carver was already at the edge of the camp. He had glanced at the bloodstained clothes for a moment and with his back to everyone else he just told them he'd be looking this way. Aveline and Donnic looked at each other knowingly and Merrill had a little smile on her face.

* * *

><p>The former owner had not taken everything along and so Gaian Hawke was able to use straw and old sheets to make himself a comfortable little seat. His back was resting against a wooden wall and he was facing the large window, enjoying the moonlight's reflection on the small river. This was a perfect spot. Having made a decision, having found this place – for the first time in weeks, it gave him peace. He had to smile and leaned back, resting his head against the wall as well.<p>

A bird? An owl? Or was it the waterwheel? Tapping... calling... what was that? Lazily, Hawke open his heavy eyes. The moon had moved a good bit over the sky, everything was throwing different shadows now. It seemed as he had dozed off.

"Brother?"

Hawke didn't respond. He sat and waited. Maybe he just imagined it.

"Open the door, brother."

Hawke turned his head a little... he had not imagined it. But had he locked the door? He couldn't remember. Either way, he wasn't in the mood for company.  
>"Leave me!" When he voiced those words they didn't come out quite the way he wanted to. They were slurred and so he swallowed and voiced them again. "Just leave me be!"<p>

"I can't do that."

A little annoyance stirred in the older brother. This was supposed to be peaceful, a chance to get away from all of it.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" His voice was steady again but it didn't quite carry his emotions. It sounded... monotone. Maybe it was for the better.

"It isn't like you to just leave. We also found blood. I am not an expert but maybe I can help, Gaian." Carver sounded genuinely worried. No resentment, no anger... it was odd.

"I healed it!" Hawke answered. He just wanted his peace again. He'd just have to make sure Carver left or that he stayed out there until it was time.

"Healed yourself, did you? It was the one thing you were never really good at. I bet you still have the scars from your first tries." Hawke rose his head again. It wasn't like Carver to speak to him like that. Maker – they hadn't spoken in years after he had joined the Templars and even after they had been united in the fight against Meredith, they didn't speak much. There was a wall between them – something that had grown and had become stronger over time. Hawke didn't like it but he had lost the strength to tear it down at some point.

"Forgive me for not standing still while you made your name among the Templars." He didn't mean to say that aloud. Hawke bit his lips – what had come over him? He rubbed his face with one hand. Over the years he had seen a lot of things, he had felt regret and sorrow and joy but he had never felt so betrayed as he did the moment he came home from the Deep Roads.

Carver didn't respond right away and Hawke felt regret once more. He never intentionally hurt his little brother – neither by word nor action.

"We never talked about it – not until the fight with the Knight-Commander and even then it was no more than a few words."

Hawke clawed his nails into his skull. Why was Carver so considerate? Why was he so calm? It didn't feel right – it felt different and it gnawed at him.

"There was nothing to say – nothing that wouldn't have caused another fight. Mother eventually made peace with it – she was proud of you and it wasn't my place to interfere." He didn't tell him of a lot of things that had happened – didn't tell him how he had felt in those days and years. And he wouldn't tell him a few things – ever!

"You never held back telling me your thoughts. But you are doing so now." Carver's voice sounded a bit closer. He probably had found a place next to the door or a window. At least he hadn't tried to break down the door yet. But why the hell was he so persistent? Why couldn't he just leave? Hawke felt restless – this was not what he had planned. Didn't he deserve rest? Was it too much to ask to be left alone?

"Talk to me brother."

Why was there a pleading tone in his voice? He never cared about his older brother – at least not in any other way than being resentful.  
>So why would he waste his breath now. Was it instinct maybe? Did he feel this was a turning point – or rather a point of no return. But as always, he couldn't deny Carver his wish. No matter how much the boy had provoked him, tried to anger him or had simply been an arse, it didn't change his feelings for his little brother. Nothing ever would... at least not for long. And so he made a decision – he would talk and tell him at least a few things that he had never told anyone.<p>

"I really tried, you know? I was just about 18 when father died and you two were 15. I wasn't ready... Maker knows I wasn't ready to be made head of the family. I never wanted it... but he made me promise. 'Whatever you do – keep them safe! Make sure they grow up safe and sound and try to make them happy.' That look in his eyes – a gentle demand that didn't allow failure. And so I tried my best – I consoled mother, looked after you two and tried to keep everyone fed. But I failed at making you happy. Everything I did, everything I said was something you despised. All I did was wrong – I didn't understand it and I still wonder today. I just knew – father would be sad or angry at me – I had failed him.

During that time I had more demons haunting my dreams than ever again. An offer – a quick promise that you'd be happy and taken care of if I would only give myself to them. You have no idea how tempting it sounded. It is true – we are never free of temptation – nobody is. But there was one thing that father taught me – one thing he hammered into my mind for years. Demons cannot be trusted! They are master manipulators, they know your weaknesses, know your deepest desires, your greatest fears and they will use it against you – no exceptions. And once that is done – the road is set. As an abomination – the mage is caged in his transformed body, only able to watch as the demon turns against what he holds dearest.

So there was my choice – protecting the ones I love most, knowing that I'll fail father or to accept a deal – knowing that eventually, at some time, it would consume me and the demon would not hold back from destroying you, Bethany and mother."

Pictures of some of the bloodmages and abominations they had met over the last years filled his thoughts. Some he could almost understand – others had chosen the worst of all motives – lust for power. He couldn't even fathom how many innocents died by the hands of fellow mages who had turned bad. But he – just like many other mages didn't support them, or helped them – instead they had killed most of them.

"I denied them, I pushed them back, fought them over and over again, every demon every night and it was getting easier at some point. After a while you see through their means. You start to see the differences between the real people and the demons taking their forms. And usually – for a short time, the demons try to appeal to you, they try to present themselves in the best light possible, thinking that they will be able to trick you with that. Those short interludes were... they were enjoyable. Of course, eventually they returned to show their true nature."

Bethany was so scared when had her first encounter with a demon. She had screamed and came to him that night, sobbing and he had allowed her to slip under his blankets. Their father had come to check and he knew what had happened. He had nodded at Gaian, signaling him to continue to watch over her. He did - only sometimes whispering comforting words or running his hand through her hair so that she could feel that she wasn't alone. Their father had done the same for him.

She sometimes came to him, instead of their father – they had always been close. And so he tried to give everything their father had taught him, on to her as well. But after father's death he had failed his little sister as well. He had always been afraid to admit it.  
>Bethany had never been able to embrace her magic as well as he had. Maybe he hadn't watched out for her well enough, maybe he hadn't counter the stupid arguments, stories and speeches of the other children and townsfolk as well as he should have. She was never at peace... and it was his fault.<p>

"I wonder what they'll be showing me now... " a weary smile crossed his lips. He began to feel it – the numbness in his legs and his fingers, the slight headache and dry mouth.

"I'm so very tired, Carver. To justify my mere right of existence, to proof my character every day and to bear the fear- and doubtful looks from strangers and friends alike... it drains me. I know, why not just have myself made tranquil. Loose everything I am, no more fear, no more joy, no more hope, love, sorrow or regrets... a great alternative..." Hawke wasn't able to suppress the trembling in his voice anymore and though the first tears were silent, soon the sobbing would be obvious as well.

"To be who you are – most likely choosing death or to be nothing else than an empty husk... you tell me what you would choose. How many people did you destroy by pressing that brand onto their heads? How many mages rather killed themselves than become... a nothing." He wiped his face clean, tried to dry the tears so he could gaze at the beautiful night again.

"How many times did you take part? How many times did you look away when you comrades went into the rooms of some Circle Mages? How many times did you hear them scream and cry for help? Did it bother you that they never got any? How many times did you wish I would submit – get the brand or be shut up by your friends?" He was almost yelling, a last time the energy surged through his body, the last chance to free himself of some of those thoughts and fears that had eaten away at him over the years.

"We hunted and killed slavers whenever we could – you remember that little brother? What in the Maker's name made you become one yourself?"

It was over – the enthusiasm, the energy was gone, used up and it was getting more and more difficult to keep his eyes open. It wouldn't be long now – even if Carver broke down the door this moment, there would not be much he could do. Peace was just one step away. He swallowed hard. There was something he needed to do – to say, this wasn't the right way to end it.

"I always tried my best. I just wanted to protect you – keep my little brother safe. I know now that you'll manage. I love you Carver – always did and if there is just one good memory you have of me... keep it close. Forget-the-rest..."

The outburst of anger, it was dispersed and there was a mix of regret for having said it at all and an utter relief that he had freed himself of it. But in the end, Carver would know how he felt – that even his betrayal had never curbed his affection.

"What are you talking about?" Was that panic in his voice? Hawke wasn't sure, it wasn't loud enough, or maybe the gurgling of the water was getting louder? He heard the splashing of the water falling from the wheel, heard the regular tapping sound of it too.

"Brother? Gaian, open the damn door!"

Someone was yelling – far away. Was it raining? It sounded like heavy rain drops drumming against the roof and the clear reflections on the water became... blurry. But where were the clouds?

* * *

><p>The door... why didn't it break down? Carver threw himself for the fourth time against the wooden gate and finally he heard it splinter.<p>

"Just hold on!" he yelled before he threw himself another time at the gate. The hinges finally gave way and Carver was able to force the door open. What in the Void's name was his brother thinking? Why wasn't he answering? And by the Maker what was he talking about?

It wasn't as dark inside as he thought. Large windows towards the little stream offered plenty of light to enter the house. Still – it took him precious moments to get used to the difference. Once he was a few steps inside, he could already smell it and the panic rushed through him again. The iron scent of blood and he knew, for it to be so strong, it had to be more than just a few drops. He searched calling for his brother again and again, being tricked by silhouettes of old tools and furniture until he finally found him. In just a few steps he was at his older brother's side and knelt down next to him.

"Talk to me – tell me what's wrong?" he muttered under his breath – knowing that he would not get an answer. Gaian Hawke sat motionless against the wooden planks, his eyes almost shut and a sort of relieved expression on his face. His left hand was still clutched to his side and the blood had seeped through his gloveless fingers.

Carver carefully framed his face, shaking him a bit but there was no reaction. But he wouldn't give up now – no matter what had happened before, he was not willing to let his brother go. And so he wrapped his arms around the limp body, picked him up and carried him to the door. He'd find the way back and he'd find a way to bring him back... he had to.

"Anders!" after a good while he began to call for the mage. No matter what had been, no matter what differences there were, if someone could help him, it was Anders.

Sometimes he thought he could hear voices, and for a few moments he stopped. But there was nothing – even if he called for them, there was no response. So he walked on and on, looking out for landmarks he'd recognize. It seemed like half the night until he finally heard something familiar: a low barking.

"Paws? Paws! Come here, boy" he yelled, hoping it really was his brother's Mabari. What had his brother been thinking when he named the poor animal? But anyway, if this wasn't his dog – they'd have a whole new problem. Soon, he could hear breaking branches and panting and only minutes later the large Mabari stood in front of them. He didn't wag his tail, just tilted his head and whined.

"Yes, I know – I need to get him back to the camp and we need Anders. Show me the direction will you? And find that mage." His voice was trembling despite all attempted control. The dog barked once and with a little howl he ran off and Carver followed. Again it seemed like an eternity but knowing that he was on the right path and that Paws would find Anders gave him strength again.

"You're not gone yet" he mumbled as he carried his brother further. "You wouldn't leave like that – you can't." Tears had found their way down his face – it was the first time in many years. Even when their mother died, he hadn't cried. He had been furious that his brother had let it happen – outraged at such injustice but he hadn't cried. Maybe it was because Gaian had always been the outlet for his emotions.  
>Was it just a selfish thought to want him back? No... he needed him but he needed him because he was all he had left, because he was what always mattered to him.<p>

The light of the fire made its way through the trees, finally signaling Carver that he getting close. He fastened his pace, yet making sure that his brother wasn't thrown around too much. He heard the voices of their friends – hoped Anders was among them.

The last trees, the last branches hitting him in the face before he entered the clearing. They were around him at that very moment, arms reaching out pulling on him and his brother but it only made him clutch on to Gaian tighter.

"You have to let him go, Carver" Aveline's voice reached him deep inside that haze but he shook his head. He wouldn't let him go – it wasn't right. Maybe she had realized that her choice of words was unfortunate.

"Alright, then put him down. We will all look out for him but Anders will need some space." He looked into blurred faces but for a moment his mind cleared. Yes, Anders... he was their only hope.

"Where?" was all Carver could say. He wouldn't put his brother into the dirt. It was too chilly on the ground...

"Just over there, on the blankets" the knight told him and with a soft hand on his shoulder, she showed them to the makeshift bed. Carver complied, he lowered the body in his arms onto the bed and it took gentle force to move him aside. Aveline and Donnic pulled him up and led him a few steps to the side before they directed him onto a tree stump.

Everything seemed so unreal – everyone seemed to move in a slow motion, why weren't they hurrying? He looked around, deep shadows distracting him, the flickering of the fire catching his attention. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

A sudden heavy weight on his leg allowed him to focus for the first time again. Paws had rested his big head on his knee, looking with those loyal eyes at him – and despite what everyone might say about Mabaris still being animals, he was certain he could see the pain in the dog's eyes that he was feeling himself.

"I... I can't..." Anders voice was sharp as bell. "He's gone..." Those words were ringing in his ears and he fixated the mage before he rushed up. He only felt strong hands holding him back, keeping him at a distance from the blond.

"Bring him back" he snarled, never breaking eye contact. "I've seen you do that before. Bring him back!" His voice turned into a growl, something primal and threatening, something nobody had expected of the 'little Hawke'.

"It's been too long, Carver" Merrill tried to explain when Anders couldn't answer. The mage was trembling.

"It has not! He is still here.. I can feel him. You are the bloody mages – you should be able to feel it. Now bring him back!" Carver yelled, rebelling against the two former guards' hold. But Anders didn't move – his eyes shifted between the body before him and the outraged brother some steps away.  
>"Do something! At least try you bastard! What's that damn spirit good for? He'll know" for once the Templar education seemed to be good for something. No matter what he thought of Anders and his deal with Justice, he was the one who could fix this. He would be the one who could save his brother. But now – the blond was so much in control over his second self that he seemed unable to do what was necessary.<p>

"You useless piece of shit..." Carver barked.

"Don't Carver, that is not helping!" Aveline tried to calm him but she wouldn't succeed, he wouldn't allow her to interfere.

"It's your bloody fault! Your selfish actions – you forced him to act! You forced him to flee! And for what? They should have made you tranquil when they had chance..." When he had said those last words, Anders' head rushed up. It was the first time he looked at Carver directly and he saw familiar hatred.

"You would have saved more people if you had submitted! Maybe even Karl but no... you had to fight that ridiculous battle of yours. Meredith was right – crazy but right" Carver heard Merrill and Aveline argue, trying to calm him down but he couldn't do that. Justice would have to come out – only then would he be able to confirm what Carver felt.

"The brand would have been the better choice for you. How many did you saved that turned bad, huh? How many innocents did you kill? How many Templars lost their valuable lives to you..." he was running out of things to say and Donnic and Aveline started to pull him away. For a moment he thought he saw the blue glow but then it was gone again.

"You're a disgrace! You're not looking for justice, you're just too weak – always relying on someone to do the work for you..." he screamed before he lost the battle of strength against the two trained guards and they dragged him further away. With a loud laugh, he finally saw that he had succeeded though. The blue glow seeped out of Anders and he was getting up, ready to follow Carver and punish him but before he made a step he stopped in his very move.

Just as sudden as Justice had shown himself, he disappeared again and Anders looked after Carver with wide eyes. Even as he was dragged away, Carver couldn't hide a relieved smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age 2 or any of the characters, neither do I earn any money writing these stories.**

**Author Note:** I don't even know why I let myself being talked into writing this second chapter. I guess some of it already existed in my head and after receiving a request I decided to give it a go. I am not as happy with it as with the first part but I suppose it is needed for the third scene that will eventually come up.

It'll depend on my inspiration as well as my time and the feedback and comments. It's just no fun if nobody comments and tell me if they like the stuff or not. Even if I wrote for myself in the first place - let's face it, when publishing we seek feedback and encouragement.

I also have to apologize for typos and the likes since I currently don't have any beta readers. I'll read through it again and again in different times and try to fix the mistakes I find.

**Setting:** This part contains a good bit of personal ideas and thoughts that are not connected to the BioWare lore. I spent a good while thinking about them and considering them and I do like them. So unless you are totally fixed on existing BioWare lore... maybe you can give it a try.

* * *

><p>It had been some hours since Aveline and Donnic dragged Carver away from the rest of the group – standing watch ever since. The former Templar had barely moved, he looked drained.<p>

What they didn't understand was why Justice had not gone after the lad. Carver had certainly given him a good reason with the things he had yelled but there was nothing. Instead, Anders had swallowed some of the sleeping draught, telling them to stand watch.

When Anders had returned two or three hours later, he appeared to be shocked? Confused? A little of both and as soon as he could stand and walk again, he approached Carver. He put his hand on Aveline's shoulder and nodded once and a few moments later he sat next to former Templar – alone.

"What I said... I" Carver started but the mage only shook his head.

"It's alright – I know why you did it, but I'm not sure how you knew what to do." Carver let out a low laugh after hearing that.

"Some of it – from the Templar education but the final idea came from you." He admitted and he chuckled again when he saw the astounded face of the blond man next to him.

"When we first met you – when we went after Karl... he said that you brought a piece of the fade with you. I was hoping it could work the other way as well – that you might see what Justice can."

"Smart lad" Anders was actually impressed and surprised. It was interesting to see the younger Hawke actually caring for his older brother and being something else than a stuck up arse.

"He is still there... isn't he?" The question was fearful, so was the look on his face and it felt good to Anders that he could nod and tell him that Gaian Hawke's spirit had not yet left. At this time, he wasn't sure just how much Carver knew about the fade. A stuck spirit... it was not necessarily a good thing.

"He is – and something seems to keep him to his body but I... I just don't know what."

"Can't you just – I don't know, put his spirit back into the body? Isn't that what reviving does?" All of a sudden Carver seemed to be much younger again, a frightened boy with an endearing naivete confronted with the death of loved one.

"More or less but usually, there has been no more than a few minutes since the death. When the body is still warm, when the blood hasn't dried yet, the muscles haven't begun to go stiff – then it may possible. It is a small reverse to put it simple and even then it costs a lot of energy. But a body that has gone cold, that has started to change... it is no small fix and I cannot mend dead flesh."

First he cringed at those words and then Carver shifted his view to the sky, seeing a few stars between the high tree branches and they seemed just as far out of reach as his brother.

"What does that mean? Isn't there anything you can do? Did you speak to him?" His words became whispers.

"I'll be honest – I have never seen anything like this before and I am not sure what I can do. In the fade I could see him and I am certain that it is your brother but I couldn't approach him. There is something that kept me at a distance and this barrier seemed to grow thicker even while I was looking at it." Anders looked at the black haired man next to him and when he saw the desperation he quickly added "I'll keep trying and searching for ways to reach him."

"Swear it. Swear that you'll do whatever is in your power!" That urge in his voice didn't leave Anders any choice. He nodded and reached out his hand which Carver took right away.

"I'll do whatever I can for your brother – I promise!" While saying those words, other thoughts crossed the mage's mind – something that worried him a great deal but it was nothing Carver should be bothered with at this moment.

"Go and get some sleep – I'll sit down with the others and talk with Merrill, maybe the Dalish know something that can help" Carver opened his mouth when he heard the name of the elf woman but he closed it again without speaking a word. 

* * *

><p>"I don't know, Anders" Merrill tilted her had a little, her large eyes resting on the body in front of them. "It is no demon's work that is all I can say." She paused a moment and shifted her view to the other mage.<p>

"I know you want to keep looking but as long as you don't find anything within a day or two – we have a problem!" She kept her voice low, it was something they didn't want to share with the rest of the group just yet.

"I know but my abilities are very limited. When I was still in Ferelden, a friend once told me about an old rite of the Dalish" Anders felt this stomach turn, he knew that this was their only hope. If Merrill wasn't able to perform this rite, or something similar... there wasn't much they could do.

"The Uthenera has not been performed in many ages – there was no need as we do no longer live that long" Merrill explained and Anders' shoulder slunk down in disappointment "however – that does not mean that some of us haven't studied it. But it is only theoretical knowledge!"

"It's all we have, Merrill. He isn't supposed to sleep for a hundred years – just long enough until we have figured out what is going on and what to do about it."

"The problem is that he isn't sleeping – we are trying to preserve the corpse" she whispered the last word, sighed and twirled a finger in her hair. Suddenly her head rushed up and there was a glow in her eyes again.

"In the old days, during the war – our people had to hold out in the wilderness for days – sometimes hide for weeks. They developed a ritual that didn't demand a cave or steady resting place like the Uthenera, instead it was developed for the woods. The forest and the earth would – well take them in, hide them and sustain them for a long time. In the old days, the tribute was a little lifeforce, nothing major considering the length of our lives." She paused, making sure that Andes was listening very closely.

"I believe we could compensate the costs – but you're not going to like it."

"Bloodmagic" Anders knew that she was right. Usually, the energy for difficult spells and rituals could come from mages or lyrium – however even if this would work here, they lacked both. The two of them would not be enough and to get their hands on heaps of lyrium was impossible – besides, it wasn't even clear if it would work that way.

"There is one more thing – I might need 'help' with this. Sacrificing years or month... I don't think I have that much blood in me to compensate that!" A little smile was on her lips and to see her like that gave Anders hope. 

* * *

><p>Days had passed since Merrill performed that ritual successfully – at least that was what they hoped. The blood everyone had given soaked into the earth almost instantly and only moments later, the ground began to move, roots, and vines had breached the surface and covered Hawke. Minutes later, they could barley see anything of the body anymore, instead it was a collection of plants, ferns and moss covering a human sized mound.<p>

Nobody dared to go digging – even days later, so instead they just hoped. It was the only option really – to believe that it had worked. The entire situation had been difficult on Carver. Despite everything – he had looked at the body as his brother even though he knew that there was no more pulse – but to be told directly that it was only a corpse now and that it needed to be protected from decay was too much. He had stumbled backwards, fell to the ground, remaining there. The shock, the lack of sleep, the sorrow and the guilt he felt were all playing a part in it.

The only good thing about his collapse was that his companions had been able to get him to sleep a little and Aveline even got him to eat after he had woken up. They all had needed their strength for the ritual – especially Carver.

Ever since – he had barely moved away from the mound – always keeping watch and only sleeping when he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, only eating when his stomach hurt and the growling was no longer ignorable. It continued like that for almost a week and only then was Fenris able to get him off his butt to do some sparring. For some reason the elf found just the right words to motivate the younger brother.

As for the mages, Merrill stayed in the mortal realm, keeping watch over her spell and tried to commune with nature as best as she could and she made sure that the price for the ritual was continuously paid.

Anders on the other hand, spent almost full days in the fade, looking for answers, trying to find ways to break through the barrier that kept Hawke away from them. Even spirits, dreamers and some lesser demons he encountered could not help him. Every now and then he heard screams and sobs, cries that made him cringe and he knew it was their friend. But no matter how much he wish this macabre motivation would help him succeed, it didn't.

After yet another long day, Anders returned from the fade, and as soon as he entered his body, he was aching. They had fortified the camp a little and had set up different tents. But even that could not make the makeshift beds any more comfortable. Staying the entire day in one of them did nothing good for his back and the unfriendly weather did not help either. It was chilly and a mist had crept through the trees and over the ground, providing an ever present clamminess and the only place where it seemed to be less intense was close to the fire.

As soon as he had his senses together he grabbed a blanket, pulled it tightly around himself and made his way exactly there. Maybe he was lucky and he would get some food – maybe even some hot stew or soup. Before all this started, it had usually been him and Hawke who had prepared the meals but neither one of them was capable to do so now and that meant that the food was edible – most of the time, but nothing of incredible taste.

The downside of leaving the tent and sitting down at the fire was that he had to face his friends, once again shaking his head and bringing them the bad news that he had still made no progress. It was draining – in more than one way. They had lingered in this one place for too long – and since they couldn't leave – they had started to keep watch and always have someone out in the woods as scout. It kept them on their toes, gave them something to do and brought back a little bit of an everyday routine.

It was Donnic's turn to roam the forest, Aveline was sparring with Fenris and Carver had taken responsibility for the evenings cooking after he had seen how Merrill was about to add tree bark to the stew. He wasn't afraid of poisoning but he couldn't stand the bitter taste of it. When he noticed Anders he stopped and looked at him with dim hope and when Anders shook his head, he only nodded and resumed the preparations. The first days had been bad – everyone was kind of expecting a quick solution for this... problem but it wasn't so. With each passing day, the expectations shrunk but the hope never died.

"Only a few more minutes" the former Templar informed the mage with a calm voice and Anders nodded gratefully. He turned his back towards the fire, trying to get rid of that shivering. 

* * *

><p>"Someone found us" Donnic entered the camp, followed closely by a figured dressed in thick woolen robes and a hood dragged deep in his face to keep the uncomfortable cold at bay.<p>

"And you brought him here? Are you crazy?" Carver barked and while doing so, everyone was on their feet.

"I'm not here to cause troubles. I'm here for Hawke" Anders recognized the voice right away and so did Carver a little later. When he pulled the hood back, the half-elf was smiling at them. His looked older – no, he looked more mature and his hair had grown longer. Besides that, he had turned to wearing robes, certainly looking like a mage.

"Feynriel?" Anders felt utterly relieved – without knowing how much help he would be, the simple fact that another mage – a special one at that – could provide a new insight was the best news in days.

"I'm sorry it took me so long" he responded and the two blonds embraced each other in a friendly way.

"I thought you went to Tevinter... who did you bring? Hunters? Magisters?" Fenris was tense, the hand resting on the hilt of his weapon.

"I was in Tevinter but when I realized something happened, I left! And I did not bring anyone. This isn't about you – it's about Hawke. I'm here to help!" He looked steadily into the eyes of the elf.

"Fenris! My brother trusted him... and he is no normal mage. He might be Gaian's only chance!" Carver had placed himself in front of the white haired elf, something that had never happened again since the day they had met.

"I didn't see anyone else" Donnic added and though Fenris looked as if he didn't want to take that as a guarantee, he eventually nodded.

"I will watch you, mage" he snarled but he sat down again.

"You do what you have to do – but Hawke is my friend and I'll do whatever I can to help him!" Suddenly he looked around – realizing that Gaian was nowhere to be seen. "Where is he?"

"It's complicated" Anders answered. "Here, you can leave your things in my tent, there is still some space left and sit down and eat, you look hungry. We'll tell you what we know."

Feynriel followed the invitation, leaving his stuff in the appointed tent and joined the rest of them for the meal. While they ate Anders explained what had happened. 

* * *

><p>"I wrote him once I had left, to tell him of my progress and because he was the only I trusted – still do. Unlike your assumption – I did not enjoy my stay in Tevinter" he directed at Fenris. "Rejecting the Circle does not automatically mean embracing bloodmagic and having seen it used so openly... I just strengthened my will." Maybe it was the sincere disgust displayed on his face, maybe the clenching of his fist into the woolen coat – whatever it was, it kept Fenris from arguing.<p>

"Anyway, I wrote him a few times and I was surprised when he wrote back. It helped me a great deal and I continued to keep him up to date, told him what I had learned and what new abilities I had discovered. After a while it was his idea that I should use my abilities to manipulate the fade and come visit him in his dreams." Feynriel's eyes seemed to loose focus as he stared into the flames and a little smile crept over his lips.

"I was utterly proud when I succeeded in creating a bridge between him and me and it was so good to see him again. We talked for long hours about magic and everything else really. He told me of the events in Kirkwall and what all of you had achieved during the last two years. We also spoke about our worries and fears and comforted each other over the bad things we had seen." Carver wasn't sure but he thought he saw the half-elf glance at him for a brink of a moment and once again the guilt of his decision after being left out of the deep road expedition returned to him.

"When things got really bad in Kirkwall, when Meredith began abuse the Rite of Tranquility more often, Gaian approached me with a bidding. I refused at first but he reminded me of what I had been willing to do to get away from the Circle and Tranquility." Nobody talked, or asked questions, they just continued to look at Feynriel and so they noticed the change in him. It suddenly seemed like he was uncomfortable or maybe even afraid to continue but eventually he cleared his throat.

"He wanted me to do something I had never done before. Maker knows I warned him, told him that I didn't know how it would turn out but he insisted. He said he believed in my abilities and he even begged me to do it. I owe him life – I owe him my mind, everything really so I couldn't turn him down."

"Spit it out already!" Carver's patience was getting thin – every moment they sat here was a wasted moment.

"He wanted me to manipulate his essence in the Fade. He wanted his two threads to be intertwined" but before he could finish it, Merrill's mouth opened and Anders jumped up.

"WHAT? And you did it... didn't you? Maker's ass you did... " the blanket slipped down from his shoulders, his eyes were wide open in shock but he and the petite elf were the only ones who seemed to have any idea what that meant.

"There are magic-free people present..." Varric noted. Anders started to pace around in little circles, he had forgotten about the physical exhaustion he had felt only a short while ago.

"Body and Mind – that concept means something to you, yes?" Without waiting for answer the blond mage continued. "Good – so they are two forces, two energies and both of them are chained to the core being of a person: the spirit and the lifeforce. Now, you know what happens when the spiritual link is cut!"

"They become tranquil" it was Aveline who answered.

"Yes. When the thread is severed the spirit is cut loose and is dispersed or destroyed, leaving the person without emotions. It works the same way with the life thread – just that it happens more often. When this one is cut, the lifeforce is lost and what follows is death."

He stood still for a moment, trying to figure out if everyone understood and also to calm his nerves a little.

"Now, usually those two threads or chains or whatever you want to call it are only visible in the fade and only if you know what you are looking for but they run parallel and independent of the other. What he did" he pointed at Feynriel "is to combine them."

"Why? I don't understand it..." Donnic looked a little confused and it was once more rather obvious that he had never spent too much time with mages, not that most people ever would.

"The brand would no longer only sever the spiritual thread but also the life thread" Feynriel explained carefully "meaning that every attempt to make him tranquil would result in his death."

Carver's hands were shaking. He was angry at this mage for doing what he did, and at the same time an old disgust for the Order he had once chosen, returned. Feynriel was right, deep inside he knew it and he hated himself for having looked away the last years. They pretended like the mage was given an option... but it really wasn't so. Death or tranquility... death was rarely offered. A few Templars could easily overwhelm one mage – bloodmagic or not, and only those mages that gave in and became abominations would be slain on the spot. He hadn't witnessed those forced rites himself but he had heard the cries and pleas of mages, begging to be killed instead.

Gaian had made one more step – he had freed himself from the dependency of a Templar's mercy. If they had captured him, had prepared the iron for the brand and had attempted to threaten or intimidate the mage – Carver was sure his brother would have laughed, knowing that he wouldn't give the Templars what they wanted.

Without saying another word he got up, turned around and made his way into the forest. He had not gotten far when he felt sick and had to throw up, the trembling of his body increasing every time his stomach cramped.


End file.
